Thistles and Pies
by Towelket
Summary: Scotland reluctantly visits his good-for-nothing younger brother England, to be introduced unexpectedly to the latest member of the Kirkland family. Scotland X New Zealand.


AN: **Scotland X New Zealand** !  
Oh man, they have the best pairing name... **ScoNZ**!  
It's just too perfect, no?

Chapter one is based during the Highland Potato Famine and a few years after the Treaty of Waitangi was signed (1840). Around 1846-52.

On the side note, I think I've fallen in love with Scotland.

* * *

Chapter One: Muddy Rug, Spilt Tea

Scotland kicked open the wooden double doors, his unsatisfied frown deepening as he entered the elegant room. He trampled across the extravagant rugs with his boots purposely left muddy, and threw himself on the velvet cushioned seat causing the chandelier to clatter. As he sank his body further into the seat, his frown had now turned into a hateful glare towards the person who had invited him here. England sat across him, watching his brother's every action without a complaint. He had already surrendered to the idea of seeing his older brother using good manners a long time ago.

"You seem to have not changed." England remarked, keeping his posture straight in authority as though to remain superior to his brother's seeping aura of resent.

"Neither have you." Scotland scoffed, lifting up one corner of his mouth into a smirk. His eyes were not smiling. "Cut the greetings crap and get straight to the subject. This place reeks of your insolent pride. It's making me sick."

"You really haven't changed." England sighed in a murmur as he clasped his hands before him. "Fine. As you wish." "I've noticed that an awful lot of your people have been moving to Australia recently." He stared straight into his brother's eyes, weary of Scotland's rage. He could take over the conversation and kick it into a ditch any time.

"You've got a problem with that?" Scotland gave an unexpected calm reply. In an extremely annoyed undertone. Calm, nonetheless.

"No, no. Of course not."

"They need workers there."

"Yes, I know. But that's not-"

"And my men need work." Scotland averted his gaze towards a painting hung on the wall.

"I have already gathered…"

"THEN _WHY_ ARE YOU WASTING MY TIME WHILE _MY PEOPLE_ ARE STARVING BACK HOME!" Scotland roared in rage as he stood up abruptly, angrily knocking down the cup of tea set before him. His brilliant red hair shimmered in the light as it swayed, his sharp jade irises burning with fury. He'd had almost had enough of his brother's arrogance. But he would not leave. He was not leaving until he got _something_ out of his blonde brother in return for his precious time. England on the other hand sat composed. It was inevitable for Scotland to lose his temper in his presence sooner or later, and he knew this too well.

"If you would listen, Scotland." He gestured for him to take his seat. "I am aware of your county's situation. A famine is indeed a serious crisis, but you did not even let me finish."

Scotland stood still for a moment then dropped back into his chair reluctantly. "Humour me."

"Thank you." England restrained a sigh. "Now as we both know, your people need work, or rather, food."

"…"

"So far you've been sending your people to my dear Australia and Canada."

"Yes, yes! To _your_ cute little slaves! I get it; just get to the point, _please_."

"They are not my slaves. They are my younger brothers. _Anyway_." England shifted his gaze towards the entrance. "Come in, New Zealand."

The double doors slowly creaked open as a child stepped in hesitantly.

"Come here," The great nation ordered, and the child trotted towards him, still a little reluctant. He stood next to England's chair, facing Scotland who was not quite sure how to take in this turn of events. "This is New Zealand, my latest and youngest brother in the family. New Zealand, greet your guest."

The child jumped a little as he was told to speak and lifted his floor glued eyes towards Scotland. Silence fell as the child stood there and continued staring at Scotland. Scotland could see his cheeks gradually glowing pink turning into a blush. Perhaps he was nervous?

"New Zealand," England coughed as he urged the child. The child snapped back into sense and spoke in a wavering voice with a flustered expression.

"I am… New Zealand…, It is a pleasure to meet you, Mister Scotland."

Scotland had known about the new addition to the Kirkland family, but this was the first time seeing the newborn in flesh, or had him been officially introduced. He scanned the child from head to toe, curious. The first thing he noticed was the child's wide green eyes. Just like his own and England's. Long eyelashes framed the gems, thick brows sitting just above. His hair was somewhere between blonde and ash brown, occasionally flicking outwards in odd angles. Large snail-like curls formed behind his ears in both sides. The Child was dressed in a short sleeved shirt with a crochet trimming on the collar, a cross tie crowning the base of his throat. He wore mid-length shorts with socks and a pair of loafers.

Typical of England, Scotland sighed. Always starting from the looks to transform other nations to his liking. "So. Introducing your new capture can't be your sole reason that I'm here."

"Of course not." England placed his hand on New Zealand's left shoulder. He paused for a brief second to compose himself, and then spoke in a firm manner. "Would you like to send some of your men to New Zealand?"


End file.
